Butterfly wings and artificial paradises

28 Nov

The story today is the weather. An oppressively stable configuration with strong high pressure over Greenland and Iceland has semi-miraculously spawned a maelstrom of complexity over the British Isles and Baltic Sea. They say a butterfly’s wings in Japan can alter the course of weather half a world over. And I say thank you butterfly.

The temperature by my thermometer stands at -8,7 C, with swirling snow in gusting winds. This is great news for my ski possibilities, though I’m not sure I’m going to muster the courage to go out and ski in it today. Still, it’s such a nice change from the endless string of clear, bitterly cold and windy days that Norway’s weather forecasters had been predicting for me.

Snow cover on ski trails here had been waning just through sublimation and overuse. I’d been getting sick of tracks trundled up by everyone and (quite literally) their dog, so yesterday I headed out looking for some artificial joy in deep East Oslo. Whatever your poison, that’s the normal place to fill up on synthetic paradise when reality becomes too much to bear.

Unfortunately, however, my suppliers were still busy producing their stock and had only laid out 400 meters of perfect track. I therefore made lemonade out of lemons and spent an hour and a half working on technique. Since the ground elsewhere in East Oslo was nearly snow free, I was glad to have a thick layer of ice in my recently grown cold protection beard to prove to other subway users that I really had been skiing and wasn’t simply delusional.

Since I’m such a highly competitive bastard, slowing down to work on technique is something I don’t often get a chance to do. But it’s probably misanthropy and not the winning spirit that prevents technique focus. I always do my best to blast past any crowd, particularly any one that comes with me when I get off the train.

But then again since most people are weak, comfort seeking wimps, fewer than usual have been opting for public transport, even if that means flouting the law and parking in station car parks reserved for train users. Though I’ve entertained nasty thoughts of denouncing them to the parking police, I think I’ll content myself with the thought that taking the more adverse route is only making me stronger than the others.

Image source: http://www.metoffice.gov.uk


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